


victorious are the fallen

by Zerrat



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorious!Morgana, F/F, References to Mental Conditioning and Dissociation, Sibling Incest, references to trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2680394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerrat/pseuds/Zerrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana has waited a long time for justice and revenge to be served, and in the wake of her battle with Kayle, she passes final judgement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	victorious are the fallen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lost_in_translation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_translation/gifts).



> Happy birthday J! I hope you enjoy this one bro, and have an epic day!

Despite the way her body ached in the wake of battle, Morgana could not help but let a small, satisfied smile curve her lips. The raw burn of scorched flesh on her shoulder, slathered beneath healing salves to accelerate healing, the deep weariness of exhaustion settling deep against her bones... it all faded away as she pushed her way through the lacquered, ornate double doors to Kayle's chambers. 

It seemed almost laughable that until just the morning gone, Kayle had occupied the room. If Morgana knew her sister - and she _did_ , better than any in the Infinite Realms - Kayle would have stood in sleepless vigil by the open windows as Morgana's forces had marched on the Keep's impossible heights. 

The chambers themselves were both jarringly and comfortingly familiar. After all, they were the very same ones that she had shared with Kayle - before everything had gone to hell between them. Really, a part of Morgana was shocked that Kayle had had the stomach to retain them at all, given how she'd shared them with a _witch_ for years before the betrayal. 

Given that Morgana had had her in every way imaginable in this very room. Given that Kayle had loved every sinful moment of what they'd shared. 

The room had been spared the worst of the fighting, and Morgana let her gaze slip over the crisply-made bed, where she'd once lain twisted in the sheets, replete against Kayle's heaving chest. She'd let her sister run her fingers through the delicate, downy feathers at her shoulder blades, their legs and arms and hair tangled together so completely Morgana had sometimes forgotten where she ended and Kayle began. 

She'd been such a fool. 

Morgana exhaled softly, moving silently through Kayle's room and the trappings of a lifetime ago. She knew the layout of the room like the back of her hand, of course, knew without wondering exactly where Kayle had kept her books, her writing implements, the spare set of the compression wrappings she wore beneath all that armour. 

The belongings were sparse, even by Kayle's standards. She'd never been one for sentiment or keepsakes, but back when Morgana had spent her nights in this room, there had still been some level of personal touch. There had been art implements amongst the writing ones, fiction amongst the law and strategy books. 

Not anymore. The room itself could well have belonged to an automaton, all personality stripped bare. Uneeded. Disposed of. 

Morgana trailed her fingertip along the edge of one of the bookshelves, skimming the titles. She wasn't sure why she was bothered by it, for she'd had her theories on her sister's psyche for many years now. Perhaps the odd feeling in her chest was surprise, to have finally come up against sure evidence in its favour. 

She shook her head, continuing through the chamber, her eyes grazing over every tiny non-detail of her sister's life, weighing it all and finding it... wanting, until she could no longer ignore what she'd been avoiding. What _screamed_ for her attention. 

In the alcove by the double doors, Morgana had been arrested by Kayle on dubious, laughable charges of high treason, despite the lack of evidence. She could remember Kayle slamming her into the wall hard enough to make her head ring with it, remembered demanding answers in a panic as Kayle had fastened her wrists behind her back and twisted feathers in a silent warning. 

While the act that still made her wake at night, sweating and terrified, had occurred elsewhere, the arrest, this place... it had been where it had all begun, where the events of today had been inexorably set in motion. It had been here that Kayle had taken that first step toward leaving Morgana broken and bloodied in the cells beneath the Keep, the bones of her wings snapped, muscles and ligaments torn free. She remembered every moment of it with vivid, painful clarify. Her feathers had stuck in joints and grooves of Kayle's gauntlets as her sister had proven her _dedication_ to her insane cause by ripping Morgana's wings to shreds. 

Morgana had been reduced to a wreck. She'd been weak and sobbing and _powerless_ , and she still remembered the taste of her own blood and tears as she'd begged Kayle to stop, swearing again and again that she'd do anything. She remembered looked up into that impassive golden helm, and she'd found only her own reflection - makeup running, face bruised, blood smeared - staring back at her. 

Somewhere amidst the shock and agony and confusion, Morgana had vowed to never let it happen again. Never again would she be powerless, and never again would she _fear_ Kayle. 

She swore it would be the very opposite, and that Kayle would come to fear _her_. When she'd escaped the Keep, crippled and weak, she'd made good on that promise. She'd become the enemy Kayle had so feared her to be, growing into the role with vindictive dedication. 

Now, she'd _won._ The Keep had fallen to her forces, the rest of the Infinite Realms beneath the control of her most trusted lieutenants. Kayle's cult of zealots had all but been destroyed, the remnants fleeing and broken into the skies. Just seeing the fools run from Morgana the very moment she'd forced Kayle to her knees had tasted so sweet, so heady that she couldn't help but laugh even hours later, the sound loud in the quiet of the room. 

Really, it was everything she'd ever wanted! It was everything she'd worked toward for the past ten thousand years, with revenge and justice finally becoming one and the same. 

She'd long ago stopped wishing that her one, her everything - _Kayle_ \- had chosen differently. She'd stopped wishing that her sister had instead taken her face and kissed her, instead of wrapping her gauntleted hands about her throat. She'd stopped imagining a future where Kayle had instead sworn to her, that they'd fight the oppressors together. 

Dreams and nightmares, really. Such thoughts today would only make bitter Morgana's final, long-awaited victory. Kayle did not deserve even that small concession. 

Morgana practically trembled with tension at the thought of seeing her sister again, still high on adrenaline from their explosive battle in the Keep's grand hall. The acrid taste of smoke and the blood remained harsh on her tongue, and she'd been tired - so _tired._ She'd started to flag, exhaustion gnawing away at her concentration, at her magic, and for a few desperate hours, she was certain Kayle's forces would win merely by outlasting her own. 

Everything had changed when she'd finally glimpsed her sister. The sight of Kayle standing above her, exultant on the Keep's ruined marble staircases had sparked something feral inside Morgana's chest. _Everything_ had condensed down, the world narrowing to just herself and Kayle - just as destiny seemed to have intended from the very beginning. 

The ensuing fight was nothing but vicious, and certainly not the material worthy of songs or celebration. She'd been desperate, exhaused, but so too had Kayle. Together they'd struggled against one another, holy fire against dark arts, Arbiter's edge scorching against chains of magic, so close Morgana's flesh had still burned. 

Somehow, Morgana had found that one opening to exploit, and she'd let her powers lash out, binding her sister's arms to her sides, pouring enough magic into the hold that she trembled with effort, felt blood at the back of her mouth. With an outstretched hand, Morgana had felt herself smile. In that moment, she'd known she could kill Kayle with but a clench of her fist, rid the world of her _forever_ -

Instead, she'd forced Kayle to her knees, watching her sister shudder in shock. Those glorious, _undamaged_ wings had swept wide before locking, straining, holy fire still raging around her. It sapped at the chains that bound her, and she'd thrown back her head, snarling in defiance. She'd believed she could still _win_.

It had only been at that moment that Morgana truly understood the cost of victory - what it would take to truly fell Kayle. She'd strode forward to where her sister roared with rage, and she'd reached fearlessly through the holy fire of Arbiter and Kayle's own magic. She'd _believed_ in her victory, and that was the key to Kayle's magic. The inferno had died around them, and the battlefield had fallen silent. 

Kayle hadn't spoken a word in the hours since then, her helmed head downcast as Morgana's lieutenants had secured their greatest enemy. She'd refused questions, refused to concede a thing, and Morgana knew that allowing Kayle even the smallest victory would be a mistake. 

A meeting, however, was something Morgana knew would make Kayle talk. 

It was in Kayle's chambers that Morgana set the stage, ordering her lieutenants to bring her fallen, beaten sister. A part of Morgana had wanted to flaunt her deep and intimate knowledge of Kayle's personal life, and while of course she would enjoy the way a meeting in such a location would unbalance her sister, it was far from her only reason for her choice. 

She would not allow Kayle the benefit of a public audience. She couldn't _risk_ it. Her sister had always been far too... charismatic for her own good. That was something Morgana could attest to. It was part of the reason Kayle had been so dangerous. 

Given half a chance, Kayle would find some sort of absurd moral high ground, no matter the atrocities she herself had been responsible for. By sheer force of conviction, Morgana knew she'd make even the most steadfast followers of the rebellion begin to doubt. 

Besides. She'd hardly allow Kayle the _respect_ of passing judgement before scores of others. A private meeting would suit Morgana's purposes just fine. Kayle would understand the power play for what it was, of course. While she was blinded by her own ideals and proud beyond measure, she was far from stupid. 

Kayle certainly looked worse for wear when she was finally escorted into her chambers. Her hands had been bound behind her back, her wings strapped down hard, the bindings notched tight enough that they dug cruelly into her flesh. Morgana rather doubted she could draw proper breath. 

Her sister had been stripped of both Arbiter and her enchanted armour, and she seemed almost small without the trappings of her the role she'd carried for so long. Morgana had half a mind to melt it all down, perhaps into something as lowly as buckles or kitchen utensils - anything that would spit in the face of Kayle's damn _pride_. 

Despite everything, Kayle walked without needing the aid of others, her head high and her shoulders squared and defiant once more. Despite everything, she was still so beautiful it snatched Morgana's breath away, and for a few moments, she merely watched her sister. 

For the first time in ten thousand years, the helm that haunted Morgana's worst nightmares was finally gone. Now, Kayle would not be able to hide behind it as she turned her back on compassion, decency, _mercy_ as she razed it all to the ground. 

_Judicator_. The very name of the role her sister had taken made Morgana's stomach twist. The Judicator, Kayle, however tightly her sister was bound to the task she'd been assigned... the difference changed nothing in the end. She'd still hurt countless people. 

She'd still hurt Morgana. 

Morgana offered Kayle a vicious, twisted sort of smile then, knowing how the expression would drive deep beneath her sister's pretty skin. Amusement, mockery, derision - they had always been things Kayle had loathed, and Morgana expected that the same would continue to hold true. All she'd need to do was wait. 

"Morgana," Kayle finally said, her lips snarling every syllable. Her voice was still hoarse from smoke and battle, but it was sharp and unforgiving. "Don't think this is the end."

Of course Kayle would say such a thing, and Morgana didn't bother to bite back the scornful laugh that bubbled up in her throat. 

"Oh Kayle. I truly would need to be a fool to underestimate your stubbornness." Morgana sharpened her smile, shaking her head as though sorely disappointed. In a way, she really was. "You always were so single-minded. It used to be impressive. Now, beaten as you are... I find it rather sad."

"Release me, and I'll prove to you just how capable I am of destroying you even now." Kayle's eyes narrowed, her chin lifting. She was still completely in command despite the guards, the bindings, the fact that Morgana had reduced a third of the Keep to smoking rubble 

Morgana circled her sister slowly, quietly savouring the way it forced Kayle's head to twist in order to follow, how it made a mockery of the illusion of control she was trying so hard to project. "You really are too much, Kayle. You don't truly believe I'd let you free."

The corner of Kayle's lip lifted, just a fraction. "A turn for a turn. After all, I allowed you to slip away in the night. Like the coward you are."

In some twisted way, Kayle was probably telling the truth - she was far too arrogant to ever bother with something as lowly as lies. What Morgana couldn't understand was why her sister thought it made even an iota of difference now. 

"If you did... I just bet it rankled you for every moment of this this endless war." Morgana laughed again, and she reached out a hand, twisting her fingers cruelly in the pale plumage of Kayle's wings then. She dug her fingertips into the flesh, until she felt her sister's breath sharpen and a sheen of sweat start up on her brow. "And really, Kayle. A turn for a turn? You'd need to lose a lot more feathers for that to be true."

That finally got the reaction Morgana had been seeking. And of course, why _wouldn't_ it? Kayle knew, first hand, what sort of agony she'd inflicted on Morgana. She'd always known what she'd done to the only person that had loved her. 

"Do not be hasty," Kayle forced out between her teeth, her voice as unforgiving as iron. It belied the fear Morgana caught in her eyes - her sister had hidden behind that helm for far too long. 

"No," Morgana allowed after a moment, releasing her grip on Kayle's plumage then. She idly smoothed the feathers flat once more, satisfied at how her grasp had bent and broken the rachis and vanes. "That would make a martyr of you, dear sister." 

Morgana stepped back in front of Kayle, reaching out and seizing her sister's bruised chin in her clawed hands, pulling her close. Beneath the scorch of smoke and sweat and blood, Morgana noted, Kayle smelled just the same as she remembered. It was odd, how some things persisted while all else changed... She passed the pad of her thumb over Kayle's swollen, split lip, savouring the way her sister's breath caught at the touch. 

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to Kayle's cheek, languid and unhurried as she continued, "And after all the trouble I've been through with you, we cannot have that."

"Morgana," Kayle said, her voice hoarse and strained. It was then, really, that Morgana realised that meeting in these chambers was having the exact effect intended. Morgana waited, watching Kayle swallow and try again. "I -"

"No, Kayle." Morgana released Kayle's chin with a jerk, her laughter bubbling up past her lips, low but all-consuming. She laughed until she was breathless from it, until her lieutenants looked at her in askance, and Kayle face flushed hot. 

Really. It was better than she'd expected! The Judicator, for all her power and tyranny, for all the sins she'd willingly committed for her cause... she'd still only ever be _Kayle_ in the end, and suddenly, Morgana knew exactly how she was going to deal with her. 

"You have ever required weak minds to convert to your cause, sister," Morgana said, brushing strands of golden hair away from Kayle's face, if only to watch her sister balk at the tender touch. "I'll see to it that you never have the chance to ruin others, the way you ruined your poor cult of fools. The way you ruined _me._ "

"You're going to kill me. I am unsurprised, Morgana." Kayle's lips were pressed in a hard, imperious line, and her blue eyes were like ice. She seemed almost... expectant, as if Morgana was playing to her tune instead of the reverse. "You always claimed to be the more creative of us."

Morgana shook her head, delighted by Kayle's assertion. "No. Killing you would still make you a martyr, Kayle." 

Kayle's eyes widened just a fraction then - surprise. Perhaps she'd wanted Morgana to stage some grand execution. It made perfect sense. For somebody who had given so much to her cause, if she couldn't win, then she wanted to be remembered. It was just the reaction Morgana had been searching for. 

"No. Instead, I'm going to let you fade. I'm going to lock you up in our deepest, darkest cell, where only I shall know you're there at all. Nobody will come for you. Nobody will save you. You'll just... disappear." Morgana watched Kayle's expression shift, intent, savouring every detail. "And the people will forget the beautiful face of the tyrant who dictated their lives and sent them into endless war. They'll instead remember the ugly truth. They'll remember what you really were. A monster."

Kayle's teeth bared, and she snarled, "Morgana, you cannot -"

"I _can_ and I will!" Morgana snapped, and then suddenly, she was smiling in spite of herself. It felt _wonderful_. It felt like the so-called justice Kayle had been sworn to uphold in the first place. "For all your crimes, sister, death would be far too easy." 

Kayle stared at her for a moment, blue eyes wide, and Morgana could practically see the cogs in her mind work. The horror in her expression in the moment she realised the true depths of the sentence she'd been given... Morgana watched Kayle wet her lips, shaking her head slightly, blinking, _unbelieving_. 

Morgana couldn't help it - she had to taste this despair, just the once. She pressed her lips against Kayle's, her fingers twisting in silken, gold locks. The kiss was hard, fast and bruising, the blood from Kayle's split lip welling up anew and iron on Morgana's tongue. Somewhere in the midst of it all, Morgana felt Kayle whimper against her mouth breathless, helpless, pathetic, _perfect_. 

When Morgana finally pulled away, her heartbeat pounding in her ears and her every fibre awash with adrenaline, she slowly let her fingers card free from Kayle's hair. There was a flush on her sister's cheeks, Morgana noted, her eyes feverish, and her mouth twisted into the most self-loathing expression she'd ever seen Kayle wear. 

"Morgana -" Kayle choked out, and really, it was as close to a beg as Morgana was ever going to get. 

She had no sympathy for it. She turned her back on the one who had once been her everything, on the monster she'd given great reams of her life and soul. 

"Enjoy the rest of eternity, Kayle."


End file.
